Misadventures in Middleearth
by Myrielle
Summary: When you can't ride a horse or speak Westron, and realise that from your point of view living conditions are positively medieval, the one thing on your mind is not stealing Aragorn, romancing Legolas or slaying Orcs. It's going home, asap!
1. I

Disclaimer: None of this is mine, nada. All belongs to Tolkien the Great except for any OCs and blunders.   
  
Synopsis: [Middle-earth from a more sensible perspective] When you can't ride a horse or speak Westron, and realise that from your point of view, living conditions are positively medieval, the only thing on your mind is not stealing Aragorn, romancing Legolas or slaying Orcs. It's getting home where you belong.   
  
Genre: Humour/Adventure  
  
Written by: Myrielle  
  
(Mis)Adventures in Middle-earth  
  
I.   
  
By all standards, today was a beautiful day. The sun was shining bright and warm but not overly so. The sky was a stunning shade of ocean blue and fat white clouds which reminded me of cotton candy drifted high above. It would have been a perfect day too, save for the fact that it was ten thirty in the morning in England and I was not in my hotel bed fast asleep but currently in the countryside trying to feel enthusiastic about the ruins of a medieval abbey.   
  
"January!" Carrie yanked on my arm in her enthusiasm and came close to dislocating it as she stared up at the remains of a huge broken archway. "Isn't this the most beautiful thing ever?"   
  
"I thought the medieval castle we saw yesterday was 'the most beautiful thing ever'," I mimicked her, pulling my arm away and feeling it gingerly. "Yeah, it is nice okay?" I conceded when she shot me a scowl. "I'm just not as into these old buildings as you are." Actually, at first sight the abbey was quite impressive. However, we had been walking around for close to half an hour now and the combined effects of lingering jet lag and general early morning crabbiness was starting to get to me.   
  
"Old buildings?!"   
  
Carrie started to puff up with indignation at what she perceived to be my gross lack of cultural appreciation and I hastily stuffed my fingers into my ears. "Not listening, not listening," I said in a singsong voice and chuckled as she shuddered.   
  
"Please don't do that. You know Gollum gives me the creeps. I even had a nightmare about that wretched grey creature." Ever since she had watched The Two Towers, Carrie had been freaked out by Gollum, so much so that whenever she watched the DVD of the movie, she always zipped through half of it in an attempt to avoid his scenes.  
  
"Oooh, the one in which he thought you were The Precious?" I cackled wickedly. "Imagine being Gollum's Precious. At least you will always have a devoted, fanatical worshipper. But you might have to live under a dark cold mountain with lots of bug-eyed fish—" I yelped as she lunged for me and scampered behind a pillar. "Oh come on, you're almost twenty-five and working! Hello? Gollum's really just a bunch of pixels acted out by an actor!"   
  
"Yeah yeah, like you aren't afraid of the clown in Stephen King's "It"," she scoffed. "After all, he's just an actor with really bad make-up and false teeth."  
  
"That's different," I said primly. "I was only a kid when I saw that show. My inner child remains traumatised."   
  
Carrie rolled her blue-grey eyes at me. "Bullshit, January Jones and you know it. But coming back to the real subject at hand… How can you not feel even remotely enthusiastic about this? Don't you find it romantic?" She spread out her slim arms and did a little twirl, her honey blond hair catching the sunlight and making a few guys near us drool.   
  
"You'll have to wait until I find my romantic bone first. Sure, I can appreciate that back then this building was an architectural marvel. It's got lots of history, I appreciate that. Romantic? Nope. Not in the least. Do you even know what things were like back in that era? No electricity, no hot showers, no flush system…" I shuddered. "And no toothpaste. Pardon me but I prefer the twenty-first century a lot more."   
  
"You're hopeless," Carrie groaned. I just grinned.   
  
"And you're a hopeless romantic."  
  
"We couldn't be any more different."   
  
"Which is why we are best friends going on a tour of Europe. And if I am not wrong, our tour-guide is disappearing into that part of the building. Better go catch up if you want to hear all about your 'romantic' abbey."  
  
"Aren't you coming?"   
  
"I already read the brochure." I ducked a cuff from her and chuckled as she quickly ran off after the group. Taking my camera out of my bag, I decided to take a few photos of the place for memory's sake. In trying to include the huge broken archway in the picture, I found myself having to move a lot further back than expected and ended up almost at the end of the perimeter of the abbey. When I'd finally snapped my shot, I turned around to check out the rest of the grounds and a low circle of broken stones slightly further up caught my eye. Curious, I walked towards it, wondering what it was. I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was really a well. The water was surprisingly clear, sparkling brightly under the sun, and there was no unpleasant smell (I had half expected it to be filled with weeds or green slime). As I leaned over the low edge of the well, I saw some strange looking characters carved into the stone. They bore a rather striking resemblance to the runes and Elvish writing that publishers of Tolkien books are so fond of sticking on the covers. "Well, that's not possible," I muttered doubtfully. Although I appreciated Tolkien's work as much as the next serious fan, I knew that Elvish was only an invented language. 'It's probably some form of Latin,' I thought and turned my attention back to the inside of the well. It was quite wide but not very deep, and I could see something shining at the bottom. It was a coin of some sort. And since it was still glinting brightly in the sun my guess was that a tourist had recently tossed it in the well and made a wish. "A wishing well!" I smiled, remembering the stories that I'd read about such wells as a kid.   
  
Usually I wouldn't have done such a thing but before I knew it, I was reaching into my pocket for loose change. I felt a little foolish and childish for doing so but at that moment, the quaint appeal of the well won out and taking a penny, I tossed it in the air and watched as it landed with a splash in the water. Now I had to make a wish. What to wish for? "What else but great adventure?" I said half-mockingly. "As if…" Deciding that it was high time I got back to Carrie and the group, I bent down, intending to pick up my bag and camera. Only I hadn't counted on the sudden dizziness that came over me. My head felt so heavy I could hardly lift it and the world seemed to be swirling round and round. Trying to take deep breaths and convinced that I was about to pass out, I tried reaching for the side of the well to support myself. Bad idea. I miscalculated entirely, reached my hand out too high, grasped at the air and promptly toppled over into the well. I think I must have fainted as I hit the water.   
  
  
  
Someone slapped my face hard and so it was that as I rapidly regained consciousness, I was keenly aware of the fact that I was not dead or drowning, which had really been the first questions that had sprung to mind. I was about to open my eyes when another slap landed on my other cheek and instinctively I flung out my arm to protect myself. My hand smacked hard against something and there was a loud exclamation. The first thing I saw as I pushed myself up into a sitting position was an extremely offended looking man clutching one eye and gazing accusingly at me with the other which I had thankfully not maimed as well. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," I apologised immediately, feeling my face flush hot with embarrassment. "Thanks for pulling me out of the well. I don't know what happened to me, I must have had some kind of dizzy spell," I babbled as I reached for him. "I hope I didn't hurt you too badly…" I stopped when he pulled away and rose swiftly to his feet. "Geez, I said I was sorry."   
  
He said something that sounded completely unintelligible to me and I frowned, squinting up at him against the light that was coming through the tops of the trees. That was when I realised what was wrong. There were trees all around us. For one moment I just sat there, staring at the trees and thinking to myself that there had been a distinct lack of trees in the area when I had fallen into the well. It was then that the sound of rushing water finally registered and I turned to see myself sitting on the bank of what looked to be a very fast moving slender river. And the wishing well seemed to have disappeared. "Where's the well?" I asked him, feeling panicked for the first time. "Where am I?"   
  
The man frowned and looked slightly baffled. "Hey, you were the one who got me out of the well. Where am I? Where have you taken me?" Suddenly my eyes widened in horror as I noticed the bow and quiver of arrows fastened at his back and the long knife at his side. The danger that I was in crashed right through my disorientation and I scrambled to my feet at once. Obviously this nut had dragged me out of the well and into some stupid forest near the abbey! "Don't you bloody touch me," I sputtered as I backed away, my brave words completely ruined by the naked fear in my voice.   
  
The confused expression melted swiftly from his face and immediately he held up his hands, those dark blue eyes fixed on mine. He continued speaking to me and although I still couldn't understand a word, his tone was now gentle and I knew that he was trying to calm me down. I was deciding whether I should make a run for it or not when I noticed that he was dressed in the strangest fashion. He had a cloak (a cloak!) fastened around his shoulders with what looked like a very expensive brooch and was dressed in a soft green tunic and grey leggings with boots. Pale blond hair that was partly braided spilled over his shoulders like spun gold and I was wondering what kind of man wore braids like that when I noticed the pointed tips of his ears poking out beneath his hair. My throat went dry and goose bumps burst out all over my skin. There was just no way… absolutely no way that…"Oh God… You're an Elf," I whispered. Oh God, maybe I had died after all. Or maybe I was still dreaming. "Bloody hell," I swore for the lack of anything else to do and found myself shivering violently. When the Elf came over to take my arm, I didn't resist him; I wasn't even sure if I could stand on my own two feet. I knew I was suffering from shock but even then, one teeny part of me still refused to believe this was happening. So before he realised what I was doing, I reached out and tweaked the tip of his ear. Hard. The Elf yelped in pain before he knocked my hand away and said something that sounded terribly angry in Elvish.   
  
I was staring absently at my hand, thinking to myself 'So the ears are real' when a thought occurred to me and I suddenly blurted out, "You wouldn't happen to be Legolas Greenleaf would you?" His eyes widened at the mention of the name and I had a sickening feeling that I had hit the nail on the head. "You," I pointed at him, "Legolas Thranduilion?" This time he nodded slowly, and I could see that he was getting wary as well. I seriously couldn't blame him. After all, he had rescued me (although how and where I hadn't a clue) and all I had done so far was to poke him in the eye, speak to him in English which he couldn't possibly understand, fly into a sudden panic and finally, try to pluck his ear off. And now I, a perfect stranger, had called him by his name.   
  
Legolas looked at me for a good long while before motioning that I should follow him. Dumbly I obeyed, wondering whether I was in Mirkwood or Ithilien, and whether he had any dungeons like his father Thranduil. If he was anything like Thranduil, who had seemed like a very stern and no-nonsense Elf when I had read The Hobbit, I would be spending a lot of time underground.   
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Author Notes: There you have it folks. Comments and Criticisms are most welcome, not mindless vague flames though. Pre-empting any comments I foresee that might criticise the speed (and lack of development) with which events occur, I must say that my attempts at elaboration created horrendous messes and so for now, I'll stick to this unless some kind soul or muse puts some ideas in my head. 


	2. II

Disclaimer: None of this is mine, nada. All belongs to Tolkien the Great except for any OCs and blunders.   
  
Synopsis: [Middle-earth from a more sensible perspective] When you can't ride a horse or speak Westron, and realise that from your point of view, living conditions are positively medieval, the only thing on your mind is not stealing Aragorn, romancing Legolas or slaying Orcs. It's getting home where you belong.   
  
Genre: Humour/Adventure  
  
Written by: Myrielle  
  
(Mis)Adventures in Middle-earth  
  
II.  
  
When I was a little girl, my first role-model, as with most little girls, had been Barbie. Who didn't admire Barbie back then? Forget about psychologists or sociologists who claim that Barbie, with her impossible measurements, is responsible for eating disorders, low self-esteem and even the cause of some women going for breast enhancement because of said low esteem. I mean, we didn't even know what breasts were at that time, at least I didn't. All I knew was that Barbie was pretty, had a beautiful wardrobe and a handsome accessory known as the Ken Doll. Even better, she had a horse AND a dog. Barbie had it made for life, as far as the six-year old me was concerned.  
  
When I was not so little and was exposed to cartoon networks, I upgraded my role-model from Barbie to She-Ra. They were both blonde and beautiful and wore short skirts. But She-Ra was better. She not only had a horse, but her horse could fly (Spirit: Take that, Prancer!). Like Barbie, She-Ra also had a somewhat forgettable but cute male accessory. But unlike Barbie, She-Ra had a sword which she used constantly to kick Hordak's butt. Plus, she was a princess; a gorgeous, sword-wielding Princess who had a castle AND a flying horse. Who didn't want to be She-Ra? Unless you were one of those little girls who wanted to be Wonder Woman, which was also perfectly understandable.   
  
Barbie and She-Ra were perfect with a capital 'P'. Barbie and She-Ra were Mary-Sues. They were the Mothers of all Mary-Sues. And the worst part was, for the first time in more than twelve years, I had begun wishing that I was one of them, or at least one of those Mary-Sues that populated the world of Tolkien fan fiction. I'd always thought of myself as a person with a reasonable amount of integrity but at that moment, trudging after Legolas through the woods, soaked to the skin and having to deal with the uncomfortable sensation of wet socks, wet sneakers, wet underwear and jeans that felt like they weighed a ton, I was ready to toss my "stick to Canon and Character" stance out the window and become a freak version of Rainbow Brite with bronze/gold/red/ hair that had multiple highlights and amber/amethyst/silver eyes. At least if I were a Mary-Sue, my heart wouldn't be hammering in my chest after walking a pathetically short distance, my hair and clothes would be miraculously dry and I would have Legolas eating out of my hand. Either that or we would have already done the deed.  
  
Just thinking about that made me snort with laughter but the sound died in my throat at the stern look that the Elf gave me over his shoulder. 'Authors who think that Legolas is going to fall at the feet of their made-up characters have no idea what an Elf truly is,' I thought. Having had some time to observe Legolas, I could see why the Valar loved his kind and cared for them. He was beautiful. It was not the kind of effeminate beauty that some artists and writers portrayed him as having, nor did Orlando Bloom's pretty-boy movie star looks even come close. Elvish beauty went far beyond the skin. One saw it in the leonine grace with which they moved, in the nobility and strength that radiated from them like light from lamps in the night. It was an inborn quality that made them mesmerising to behold, and downright scary when they were stern. If I'd known back at the river that Legolas was a genuine Elf, I would never have even attempted to touch him, let alone pull his ear.  
  
Shivering slightly and trying my best not to trip over tree roots hidden in the long green grass, I wondered where Legolas was taking me. At least I knew I was safe. 'It could have been worse,' I consoled myself. 'You might have ended up in a troll cave, or in Far Harad or Rhun. Or Mordor." I gulped at that thought. 'Please please please let the War of the Ring have happened already.' I was confused and vexed as it was. I didn't need the threat of a giant flaming eyeball waiting to devour the world hanging over my head as well.   
  
Still, in spite of it all, I couldn't deny that the Tolkien fan in me was wildly excited, even ecstatic. I was in Middle-earth! I had seen a real Elf! This was every fan's wet dream and I was living it. 'If only I'd bothered learning some Elvish!' So far, my elvish vocabulary existed of three words and I didn't think that saying "Adar", "Yrch" or even "Mellon" was going to help. Legolas was neither my father nor an Orc, and if I called him friend in his tongue, it might have made him even more suspicious than he already was. Until I could pick up some Westron or Elvish, my questions were going to have to wait. Still, nothing that Legolas could have told me would have answered the question that loomed foremost in my mind: Just how in the heck was this possible? Leaving the issue of the wishing well aside, what I was trying to reconcile in my mind was how what I had always believed to be a very well-detailed, made-up, fictional universe was actually every bit as real as my own world. How had Tolkien-   
  
"Wait a minute...Tolkien," I whispered, stopping in my tracks as the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place. This world was fact, not fiction. And in order for Tolkien to have written about it in such great detail... "Tolkien was here!" I practically shouted. "Oh my God, Tolkien was here!"   
  
In front of me, Legolas swiftly spun around. I thought he was going to scold me or something but instead he stared at me, an expression of surprise on his face. After a few seconds of hesitation, he opened his mouth and his next words almost floored me. "John Tolkien?"   
  
"You knew Tolkien?" I gawked at the Elf. "I mean, of course you would have met him." How else could Tolkien have gotten hold of Frodo's Red Book? Or was it one of the copies that he had read? Didn't Gondor have one? Or was it the Shire? My mind was almost in overload, shooting off in all directions at once. Tolkien had been hobnobbing with the Fellowship! He might even have been here during the War of the Ring. Heck, he might even have seen the Ring. I wondered if like me, he had fallen down a well or gotten to Middle-earth by some other way.   
  
For one moment, Legolas actually looked frustrated. I could empathise with that. If not for the language barrier between us I would have plied him with questions and he would have done the same with me. But as things were, we couldn't do anything except look at each other before giving up any notions of communication and continued walking to wherever he was leading me.   
  
  
  
  
  
If I had known that Legolas was going to stick me in a tree, I would have tried to suggest that he bring me to Gondor or the city of Ithilien instead. Or even Thranduil's caves. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with trees whatsoever. They are soothing to the eye, provide shelter and help reduce carbon dioxide levels. It was climbing trees, particularly those of the tall variety that I had a problem with. Even if I did have a ladder to help me.   
  
After waiting half an hour while I alternated between staring up the tree and eyeing the ladder with distrust, Legolas pushed me towards it, took my hands, placed them on the rung and pointed firmly upwards. "Okay, okay, don't get testy. It's not my fault that the only things I've ever climbed are stairs right?" I muttered. That and the fact that I was a teensy weensy bit scared of heights. Not that I would ever admit that. Still, I did as I was ordered. One did not say 'no' to an intimidating elvish stare. I'd thought that Hugo Weaving had the whole elvish stare thing down to pat but being the recipient of such a gaze from a real Elf was quite a uncomfortable experience. Resolutely, with my eyes fixed on the each rung that I ascended, I finally made my way up to the flet and clambering out onto it, found myself face to face with four Elves who were staring at me with obvious interest.   
  
"Uh...Hi?" I didn't know what else to do. They were whispering to each other, but still looking at me. I felt a little bit like a zoo animal, but couldn't really complain since I knew my attire was nothing short of bizarre to them. Thankfully Legolas arrived just then and their attention shifted to him. While they conversed quietly, I waited, feeling awkward and trying my best not to shiver whenever the breeze blew across the flet. My ears perked up when I heard the word "Faramir" and then "Aragorn." So, there was a good chance that I was in Ithilien then. Why else would the Elves have mentioned Faramir? If I had been in Mirkwood, Legolas would have to take me to his Father. So if I were in Ithilien, then Legolas would have to take me to Faramir since he was the Prince of the land. Once again excitement turned my stomach into a coil of knots. So Sauron had already been defeated! And I might get to meet Faramir and Eowyn, or Aragorn and Arwen. It was just too bad that chances were that Frodo, Gandalf, Galadriel and Elrond may have already sailed for the Undying Lands. I would really have liked to see them and their Rings.   
  
When the Elves were done talking, Legolas walked over to me. "So, are we going now?" I pointed at the ladder and then downwards. He smiled briefly, before unclasping the soft grey cloak he wore and placing it over my shoulders. So he had seen me shivering. "Thank you," I said softly, pulling it tighter about me. Instantly delicious warmth seeped through my damp clothing and into my skin. "Well, we should go-" I'd started to walk towards the ladder but to my surprise, he put a hand on my arm and stopped me. "Huh?"  
  
Legolas pointed to himself, and then the ladder, before pointing to me and motioning that I was to stay in place. "What? You are going off and you expect me to stay here? But...but..." I sputtered. I didn't want to be left here alone with strange Elves. It wasn't as though Legolas and I were bosom buddies but at least I knew this Elf, had read about what he had done, and he was definitely more familiar than the rest. Besides, I wanted to go see whoever he was meeting. Legolas motioned again that I was to stay and with that, went back to the opening in the flet and disappeared down it.   
  
"Great. Thanks a lot, Legolas." Disappointed, I sat down, feeling tired for the first time since my arrival. The adrenaline rush was finally wearing off now and before I knew it, I let out a giant yawn. "Oops, sorry," I blushed and apologised to the Elves. Turning away from them, I lay down on my side and curled up into a foetal position, my head pillowed on my arm. Maybe I could snatch forty winks before he returned. He was coming back wasn't he? Why didn't he bring me along with him? And just where the heck had the doggone well disappeared to? I was still wondering about these when sleep finally overtook me.   
  
  
  
Someone was shaking my shoulder and lost in half-dreams, I thought it was Carrie. Grumbling, I turned over on my side and shrugged off the hand. "G'way," I mumbled. The shaking continued until I finally snapped open my eyes and let out an unmistakably irate "Bloody hell!" before realising that it was Legolas who was bent over me, trying to wake me up. "Oh... sorry." As I got to my feet, I noticed that it was a lot darker now, almost night time in fact. I'd slept the whole afternoon and evening away. My mouth felt dry and licking my lips, I wished I had my grape-flavoured Mentos. Too bad that my sweets were in my shoulder bag which was currently back on Earth.  
  
When we had descended the tree, I found two horses, one bridled and saddled, the other bereft of any riding gear, waiting for us at the bottom. They were beautiful, shining in the pale moonlight, one chestnut gold, the other white-grey. I knew that wherever next we were going, Legolas meant for me to ride the saddled chestnut horse but I had no riding experience to speak of. Technically, I knew what to do, and even how to give a horse directions. But that was all book knowledge. Noting my apprehensiveness, Legolas grasped the bridle and spoke softly to the chestnut, which flickered its ears and looked at the Elf with soft black eyes. Whatever he said to the horse, I was thankful for it. The chestnut remained still while I mounted and he needed no cue from me, but followed Legolas's mount. All I had to do was hang tight and make sure that I didn't fall off. Considering my death grip on the reins and the pommel of the saddle, that was unlikely to happen. It was with no small amount of envy and admiration that I watched the Elf as he rode, secure on the bare back of his horse, hands lightly grasping the white flowing mane.   
  
With the cold night air streaming in my face and hair, I was glad of the cloak tucked around me. I wondered where we were going, but when we finally rode over a low hill and I saw the glittering river and the lights of the city below, I knew exactly where I was. We had reached Osgiliath, and far away, I caught a gleam of white in the dark. It was Minas Tirith, the main city of Gondor, and in all probability, my next destination.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Author's Notes: Dear all, thanks for reading. As always, useful C&C is always appreciated. So sorry for the long delay. I had this partially written awhile back but only tonight all of it has fallen into place. Plus, my father has reared his ugly head in my life once again so naturally, I had other things to worry about. Thanks for all your patience!  
  
(Review List)  
  
Laurel Whitney: Thanks for pointing out all the technical aspects of my writing. I'm pretty sure this new chapter should be okay. As for the tapping, ff.net's responsible for that. ^_^ Hope Jan has more going for her now in terms of character as well. But you'll definitely get to know her more as the story proceeds.  
  
Tymiki: Thanks for the compliments! As for Jan learning Westron... now that you know Tolkien has preceded her, expect her to be doing some serious studying. After all, that's the only way to learn a new language.  
  
Cooncat: Well, it is fun writing this story!  
  
Flamin' June: Wow, thanks for putting on your fav. list. Expect more humour when Jan starts living in Minas Tirith. I have some Jan-torture in mind. *wicked cackle* There is a wealth of humour to be tapped from modern girl falls into Middle-earth situations, wish more people would see that. And yep, more information on Jan will arrive as the chapters proceed.   
  
Anne: Glad you think so! ^_^   
  
Badalirn: Sorry to keep you waiting. I'll try to update as regularly as possible but that seems a little remote at the moment, considering what I've mentioned in my AN. Still, will try.   
  
Evil Whimsey: I'll try my best. The last thing I want for Jan is to turn into an MS... Eru forbid! If I ever start veering towards that, check me. Please! 


	3. III

Disclaimer: None of this is mine, nada. All belongs to Tolkien the Great except for any OCs and blunders.   
  
Synopsis: [Middle-earth from a more sensible perspective] When you can't ride a horse or speak Westron, and realise that from your point of view, living conditions are positively medieval, the only thing on your mind is not stealing Aragorn, romancing Legolas or slaying Orcs. It's getting home where you belong.   
  
Genre: Humour/Adventure  
  
Written by: Myrielle  
  
(Mis)Adventures in Middle-earth  
  
III.   
  
We had left Osgiliath behind but every once in a while, I couldn't help but look back at it. No wonder the city was named Citadel of the Stars. It was almost unearthly, the way the constellations seemed to cluster above it. Starlight gleamed on the white walls, turning them to pearl. Beneath the marble and stone pavements ran the dark shining waters of Anduin the Great. Within, the city was just as beautiful. Looking at the skilfully wrought pillars, buildings that were some three storeys high, the planted trees and flowers that lined the houses and roads, it was hard to imagine that Osgiliath had ever seen dark days.   
  
My chestnut mount whickered and began picking up the pace. "Oh great," I smiled grimly, wrapping the reins around my hands once more. At least when we had made our way through Osgiliath the horses had moved at little more than a slow canter. But here on the open road, Legolas seemed to favour out and out galloping. Perhaps it was a good thing that my legs had lost almost all semblance of sensation a short while ago. At least it was a lot more comfortable than the fiery ache that had been plaguing me ever since I'd started riding the horse. "Wish I'd remembered that horseback riding requires a lot of stamina. Something that I don't have," I muttered through gritted teeth, narrowing my eyes against the wind.   
  
Still, I forgot my discomfort as we drew nearer to Minas Tirith and I had my first glimpse of the city I had read so much about. Tolkien had described what it looked like in the waking light of dawn. What I saw was a more like a dream in the night. Mount Mindolluin was bathed in shadow and light, crowned with white snow, and carved into the side of the mountain was the city. It was lit from within by the glow of the torches, and every now and then I caught glimpses of shining silver as the light shone on the armoured soldiers that stood guard on the walls. Banners hung from tall proud towers, but none prouder than the one that was set in the highest circle of all, the Tower of Ecthelion. 'A spike of pearl and silver is right,' I thought, swallowing hard as I finally remembered to breathe. No wonder Pippin had been overwhelmed.   
  
Legolas didn't stop as we approached the Gate which began to open for us. But I tugged on the reins of my horse, slowing it down as I passed through so that I could admire the massive structure that protected the entrance to the city. It was so high that I had to crane my head all the way back to take it in completely. Mithril gleamed, cold and forbidding yet splendid, adorned with carved figures of kings, warriors and horses that seemed almost alive. At that moment I doubted that even a Balrog could have broken through. Gimli and his people had truly outdone themselves.   
  
When I finally turned to him, Legolas smiled, blue eyes glittering with amusement and pleasure at my reaction. As we rode through the streets and gates in a bewildering series of turns and twists, I found myself gazing almost greedily at everything I could lay my eyes on. It was all that Tolkien had described. 'And perhaps more now.' The houses were not dead; I could hear laughter and see lights lit within most. There were gardens of flowers and trees that had strange birds with long brightly-coloured plumes. "Birds that sing and trees that do not die," I murmured. Those were the very words of Legolas himself, a promise made if Aragorn ever came into his own. And he had. How he had.   
  
My excitement and wonder turned to quiet respect as I reconsidered all that I knew, as the reality of it all sank in a second time. That long tale of valour, of friendship, of blood and sorrow and joy so deep one wept from it, all of that was real, not just a story. Every stone in Minas Tirith had been paid for in full with the lives and courage of people willing to die for something they believed in. Gondor had survived because of the immense courage of two tiny little hobbits who had walked into Mordor, which was in my opinion, the equivalent of hell on Middle-earth, on a near-impossible quest. I had never even come close to risking my life for anything or anyone. If the city was to be admired, it shouldn't be just for the craftsmanship that shaped it and the grandeur it possessed, but also for the ideals it stood for and represented.   
  
However, all such reflections completely left my head the moment we came to the seventh gate. "Err… are we supposed to get off now?" I asked feebly. It was a stupid question since Legolas had already dismounted and was now looking at me, clearly expecting me to do the same. A quick poke confirmed that my legs were still numb, were so numb in fact that the poke barely registered. Still, I couldn't just sit there especially since the guards at the gate were beginning to look at me as though I were an idiot.   
  
"Oh well, here goes." With painful slowness and a profound lack of grace that would have made a troll look good in comparison, I edged my feet out of the stirrups and finally managed to slide off the horse. The moment I hit the ground my legs buckled and I would have fallen flat on my face if I hadn't lashed out and caught hold of the saddle. The horse snorted and skittered sideways, with me hanging on as the guards leapt to grab its bridle. "Stay still you silly thing," I scolded through clenched teeth. As though it understood, the horse turned its head, glared balefully at me and actually attempted to rear up just as the guards seized the reins. Still clinging to the saddle for leverage, I steadied myself, felt the slow prick of pins and needles crawl up my flesh and knew that I was not going to be able to walk through that gate. Not on my two legs anyway. And since I didn't fancy crawling…  
  
"I'll never make it," I told Legolas bluntly, pointing first at myself and the gate before shaking my head vigorously. All this while my face was flushed a royal red. The guards were trying not to grin and I knew it was funny but right now, what I was feeling was incredibly stupid. Maybe twenty years later I would have a good laugh over this. Right now, I just wanted to hide in a hobbit hole somewhere.   
  
  
  
The Houses of Healing were rather nice actually. Now that my legs had been washed with hot water, a soothing mixture applied to them, and my stomach filled with soup, bread and cheese, I was starting to feel much better. The bed that I was lying on was incredibly soft, the pillows stuffed with feathers. By now I had more or less learned to live with the embarrassment of my little debacle at the gate. In fact, by the time Legolas had gotten me to the Houses of Healing, I was already in such pain that it hardly mattered that he had had to practically carry me there.   
  
'First thing to do after you learn Westron,' I told myself as I looked out of the window that was just next to my bed. 'Tell them that horses are not the main mode of transport on Earth. Second thing to do after that: learn horseback riding.' My "Things to Do List" was growing by the nanosecond. Naturally though, the biggest mystery of all was Tolkien himself. And then there was the question of going home. Or more specifically, what I needed to do in order to get home.   
  
For a moment my buoyant mood dipped and I sighed, dropping my chin onto the cool stone of the windowsill. Almost a whole day had passed already and there was no chance that Carrie had not noticed my disappearance. Knowing my friend, she would have called my family, the police and notified the National Guard by now. I was safe and warm, albeit on another world but safe and warm nonetheless, while my friends and family were probably completely panicked by now. I had to go home soon, and not just because of them. Time on Earth was slipping away and I needed to return before it was too late for me to get on with my life there.   
  
'Well, if Tolkien got home, you should be able to. Besides, it was never reported that he disappeared for a prolonged period of time.' All I had to do was to find out how he had gotten to Middle-earth and how he had left it. That should be easy, right? "Right," I said aloud in the most reassuring tone I could muster before grabbing the thick blanket and pulling it up to my chin. I needed a good night's sleep if I was going to be able to handle tomorrow because tomorrow, I was going to start my lessons in Westron. Either I would find some hapless schoolteacher to coach me or I would pester everyone who passed my way to teach me a little at a time. Closing my eyes, I resolutely concentrated on falling asleep and tried not to remember that while in school, I had flunked all my other language subjects except English.   
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A/N: Short chapter for now since RL is very busy and I am also working on my other stories. As for Jan's predicament after riding the horse, I have never experienced that for myself but I do know that horseback riding is very strenuous, especially for first timers. Toby Maguire had to learn riding and he said after a few minutes on the horse, he could hardly stand up. So I'm taking my cue from that, with some exaggeration for humour.   
  
As always, all constructive comments are welcome. Meaningless flames will be sent to the Eye in the Sky, a.k.a. disembodied Sauron.   
  
MANY THANKS TO:  
  
Lolly: Well, I'm writing this story such that Tolkien actually went to ME, as opposed to having dreamt up the universe itself. I thought it would be nice for us Tolkien fans and writers to actually include him in the story. ^_^   
  
Blue alien: Thanks for the compliment! I'm glad you find this story original. As for the challenges Jan faces, *evil grin* just wait and see what I put her through.  
  
Sabrina: Definitely no fluff or romance in this story. I'm not against romance, am planning to write a romantic fic about Eomer and Lothiriel, but I can't see any romance here for this one.  
  
LeaMarie F. Rocket: Here's the next chappie. Sorry it took so long!  
  
Wen Quendalie: Two hints on what is going to happen eventually. There will be more Tolkien, an Istar and a theory I've come up with that makes the link between ME and Earth plausibly possible. I hope…^_^ 


End file.
